


Show Me How

by keeves



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Sex Tapes, Smut, Teratophilia, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, does it count as a sex tape if it's only audio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeves/pseuds/keeves
Summary: Each combination of the Bouquet, followed up by the three of them together. Tags will be updated.





	1. Show me how you're proud

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd have a good time

Rilla carefully loops a silken rope around Damien’s waiting wrist, tying a practiced knot before checking to make sure there are no uncomfortable bumps or twists pressing into his skin. She winds the rope though the toughened vines that make up the walls of The Keep, where the headboard of their bed would be, were their bed not a living, breathing, growing patch of some kind of thick, springy Leucobryum moss. When she had first discovered it, Rilla had pressed her hand down into its center and delightedly watched her handprint fill back in.

Once she feels as though the rope has come far enough around through the vines, she draws it back towards herself and ties Damien’s other wrist, then pulls the rope taught through the vines, giving it a couple of experimental tugs to test its strength. “How’s that?” She asks, looking down at Damien’s face as she straddles his chest, searching for any signs of discomfort as he flexes and bends his wrists, pulling on his restraints and then nodding up at Rilla.

“It’s perfect, my love,” he says, biting the edge of his lower lip in anticipation. Rilla feels her affection bubble up from her stomach to her chest and she bends down to kiss him, deep and languid. He moans into her mouth, hands already twisting as he instinctively tries to reach for her, despite how many times they have tried this sort of thing. Rilla runs her hands down his arms, scratching over his shoulders and chest, flicking over his nipples just enough to make him gasp. She breaks the kiss, opening her eyes in time to see Damien strain his neck, chasing after her. She puts her hand on his forehead and gently pushes him back down, then laying her body flush against his, resting her chin on his bared chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her arms. She runs a patient thumb along his bottom lip, observing as he draws her in with his thumb. He takes her up to the knuckle, the tip of his tongue tracing along the underside of her thumb, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Isn’t he lovely, Arum?” Rilla asks, eyes focused on Damien’s face as she addresses Lord Arum, who lounges in a chair made from the same vines as The Keep’s floors and walls, one clawed finger tracing idly at one of the chair’s heart-shaped leaves. He rattles low in his throat in agreement, his purple-black tongue flicking in and out from between his teeth as she looks at him, his own violet gaze jumping from Damien to Rilla and back to Damien.

Damien’s mouth falls open around Rilla’s thumb as she starts pinching at one of his nipples, eliciting a soft “oh” that Rilla feels between her legs. She presses a kiss to Damien’s chest before sitting up to pull her dress over her head, positioning her hips over his and grinding down on his hardening cock. When he opens his mouth to speak his heart, she shushes him gently with her finger, giving him a coy smile when he flashes a desperate look in her direction. “Patience, Damien,” she tells him, laughing lightly at the tortured groan he utters in response.

Rilla grinds harder against him, working the both of them into a sweat, feeling herself getting wetter as Damien gets harder beneath her. “Are you going to show Arum what a good boy you are, Damien?” She pants, scraping her blunt nails across Damien’s chest, moving her hips in slow circles. Damien bites down hard on his lip, whimpering as he nods, straining at his bonds. Rilla hears Arum shift in his seat, his tail sweeping across the bedroom floor.

Rilla slides down Damien’s lean body, appreciating every sloping curve and hard line of muscle with her fingertips and palms, teasing with light touches and fluttering kisses. She drags his pants off his body, pressing her open mouth against his still-clothed cock, heating the thin fabric with her breath before pulling his underwear down, his cock springing free. She hears a sharp hiss to her left, where Arum is draped over his chair. She spares a glance at him and catches him running his thumb over one of his cocks, transfixed on her as she leans forward to take the tip of Damien’s cock in her mouth, holding her knight’s hips as he tries to thrust upwards.

“R-Rilla,” Damien gasps, the vines creaking as he pulls at his bonds. “Rilla, m-my flower, I must—”

Rilla pulls off of his cock just long enough to say, “Shh. Soon, Damien.” She takes him further into her mouth, sucking and wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, running her tongue along the sensitive underside of the head. Above her, Damien cries out, his body arching off the mossy bed. She hums, bobbing her head once, then twice, then pulls off and says, “Speak your heart, Damien.”

“Oh, _Rilla_ ,” Damien gasps as Rilla wraps her lips around his cock once again, her thumb and forefinger tightening around its root. “It is as th-th-though I am hanging, dangling from the precipice of you, my f-f-flower, _ahh_ —” His entire body jerks as she swallows him down as far as she can without choking. “Holding on with m-merely the tips of my fingers, I—” He inhales sharply. “Unafraid, f-f-for I know, m-my love, my flower, my light, _oh_ —for I know that, were I t-to fall, you would catch me in your—your—your ever loving embrace, oh, Rilla, oh _Rilla_ , _oh—_ ”

His body coils, muscles tensed, and Rilla pulls off at the last moment, keeping her grip tight around his cock. Damien lets out a strangled moan, straining desperately against the ropes that bind him to The Keep. “Rilla, please,” he whimpers, “Rilla.”

Rilla hears a growl from beside the bed and looks over to see Arum with both cocks in both right hands, still watching she and Damien as intently as ever. She is suddenly acutely aware of how wet she is and pretends like she is not scrambling to get Damien’s underwear off before kicking out of her own, straddling Damien’s hips and rubbing her clit. Damien watches her through half lidded-eyes, his hair sticking to his temples, lips parted and shining; beautifully disheveled. “Good boy,” Rilla whispers to him.

Damien’s breath hitches and he briefly flexes his wrists against the ropes holding him down. Rilla watches as he looks to Arum, eyes going a little wide and glassy at the sight of Arum working himself so furiously. “Arum,” Damien sighs, “My lily.”

Rilla slides two slick fingers into herself, gasping softly as Damien looks back at her. “Rilla,” he breathes. He opens and closes his mouth, clearly trying to find words in order to speak his heart once again, but he can’t. He is utterly overwhelmed. Rilla can see it in the shine in his eyes, and the red in his cheeks. As she pulls her fingers back out and positions Damien’s cock at her entrance, she leans down and kisses him once more before getting up on her knees and lowering herself down onto him, letting out a sigh of pleasure. Beneath her, Damien whimpers. “Rilla,” he says again.

She starts to move, slowly at first, moving her hips in small circles, her hands on Damien’s strong chest. “Go ahead and move, Damien,” she says, breathing hard. Damien nods once, then starts to thrust his hips up and into her, barely withholding all manner of undignified noises. Then, beside them once again, Arum lets out a guttural sound, both Rilla and Damien looking to watch as he spills over his hands, his frill fluttering around his neck and his tail coiling tight.

“Oh, Saints—” Damien says in a high-pitched voice, and Rilla’s attention snaps back to him.

“What are you doing, honeysuckle?” Arum hisses, his voice rougher than usual. “Your focus should be on her, not me.”

Damien pinches his lips together, then looks back up at Rilla. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Shh, no apologies,” Rilla tells him. “Just—just move. Please.” She can’t stand to wait any longer.

As Damien starts moving, Arum speaks up again. “Amaryllis,” he instructs, “Don’t let him finish until I say so.” In response, Damien lets out a tiny squeak, his knuckles going white as he fists his bound hands. Rilla can only nod, moving to meet Damien’s thrusts until she’s gasping for air, reaching down to rub her clit again. Underneath her, Damien writhes and moans and pants, shutting his eyes tight, barely holding on.

Rilla comes without any warning besides a soft cry, tossing her head back and clenching around Damien. Damien cries out as well, although he is much louder, his voice breaking.

“Off,” Arum commands. “Use your hands.”

Rilla isn’t used to being ordered around in the bedroom, but she has no desire to refuse Arum’s requests. She gets up off of Damien, who whimpers, chest heaving, and sticks two fingers into his mouth as she wraps her fingers around the base of his cock once again. She can tell that Damien barely has the sense left in him to suck on her fingers, but she doesn’t waste any time in removing them and pushing them both inside of him at once. His gasps become strangled, his legs jerking and tensing each time her fingertips press against his prostate, his orgasm held off by her tight grasp on his cock.

“Rilla,” he begs, “Rilla please, I need it, oh, Saints, please, Arum, my lily, please, I can’t—I can’t—”

Rilla looks to Arum, who only offers her one minute nod. She releases her grip on Damien’s cock, and after that it only takes two strokes to bring him to orgasm. He comes with an impressively loud wail, his body arching upwards. Rilla knows well that Damien likes it messy, so she doesn’t bother to try and catch any of his come in her hand, letting him come instead all over his own stomach and chest.

Rilla milks him for all he’s got, working his cock through a few spurts before he starts to relax, his fists coming uncurled. “Thank you,” he sighs, “Oh, thank you, thank you, my loves…”

Rilla shushes him one final time as she crawls over his body to untie the rope from his wrists, examining the imprints left behind once he is freed. “Are you alright?” She asks.

“Yes,” Damien says. He sounds distant, voice soft and tired. His eyes are closed, dark lashes fanning out across his cheeks. Rilla can’t help but smile at him.

“You did very well. I’m very proud of you.” She runs one hand through his sweaty curls as Arum leaves the room, signalling to her that he’d return shortly. Rilla lays alongside her knight, stroking his face as he comes down from his high. She traces the line from his brow bone down his nose and back up again, watching as his eyelids flutter under her hands. She looks up when Arum returns with a damp cloth, coming to the bed and lying on Damien’s other side, wrapping his long body around him, his tail coming around to brush at Rilla’s ankle. Rilla smiles at Arum as he cleans up Damien’s mess, resting her head on the soft moss and watching both of her lovers quietly, observing them in their tranquility.

Arum tosses the towel aside carelessly, sighing as he settles into their bed and presses the end of his snout against the back of Damien’s neck, one of his arms wrapping around Damien’s narrow hips and the other reaching across to wind his fingers in Rilla’s hair. Rilla reaches back over Damien to scratch Arum under the chin, laughing softly at the happy rattling sound he makes in this moment of vulnerability. She watches him until he falls asleep beside Damien, then gives in to the weight of her own eyelids and lets herself rest with them.


	2. Tell me how you reach the moon

“Subject appears to grow solitarily,” Rilla says into her recorder, crouching at the base of a tree growing strong and tall within The Keep where a single flower grows between its sturdy roots. “Magnoliidae. Silver-blue colored petals.” She takes one of the soft, pointed petals between two fingers, examining its texture, slipping like silk between her fingers. “Wow,” she says. Then, unhelpfully, “Really soft.”

From behind her, she hears a scoff. “What a truly scientific observation, Amaryllis.” Rilla clicks off her recorder and turns to roll her eyes at Arum, who is gathering samples of his own, filling a basket hanging from the elbow of one of his lower arms with bundles of roots and herbs.

Rilla clicks the recorder back on. “Subject Arum seems to believe my observations are inadequate. Care to expound upon that, subject?” She holds out the recorder in Lord Arum’s direction, who just bares his teeth at her. She lets out a snort of laughter, then remarks, “Subject uncooperative,” before blowing a raspberry into the microphone. She turns back to her flower, clicking the recorder off and back on again, starting a new recording. “Subject Solitary Flower appears to… glow in moonlight,” she observes, leaning side-to-side, watching her shadow pass over the flower, reducing its glow. “I’d pick it to run some tests, but… there doesn’t seem to be any more in this area. If I come across another, I’ll update. Conclude observations.” The recorder clicks off again, coming to rest in her lap. She regards the flower carefully, then rolls around so that she is watching Arum gather materials again. “Aren’t you tired?” She asks.

“No,” Arum says, bending down to pull a bundle of herbs from the ground.

“Are you sure? It’s late. You look like you could use a break.”

Arum’s tail twitches. “No, I don’t need—” He looks over at Rilla, stopping when he sees that she is beckoning him over with one finger. He sets his face, sighs and walks over to her, setting his basket on the grass and sitting down beside it. “If it makes you _happy_ ,” he says. He spits it, but Rilla knows it’s true. She reaches across the space between them to run her hand from the corner of his mouth down his throat, watching as he closes his eyes, frill quivering. Not so long ago, he would have looked at her strangely for this, but now, he leans into it, tilting his head towards her as she scratches the top of his head. It’s ridiculously adorable.

Rilla sneaks her recorder from her lap back up to her mouth. “Subject Arum appears to greatly enjoy a good head scratch,” she says. Arum grumbles and squints at her, but doesn’t pull away or deny Rilla’s observations. Rilla leans over and gives him a chaste kiss on the tip of his snout, then leans back on both of her hands and looks up at the bright, full moon, high in the sky.

She’s interrupted by Arum growling at her. “What?” She asks, looking over at him. “Use your words, Arum.”

Arum crawls over to her, nearly depositing himself right in her lap, two of his hands on her knees. “Why did you stop, Amaryllis?” He says, a rattle in his throat.

“Oh, you want some more?” Rilla teases, scratching under his chin, grinning as his eyes close again, the rattle in his throat growing louder. “Subject is very demanding,” she says, her recorder still running in the grass beside her. Arum starts.

“You’re still recording?” He asks. Rilla shrugs. Arum seems to pause in thought, then he crowds Rilla’s space.

“Oh,” leaves Rilla’s mouth in a rush of breath. Arum is close enough that she can see his nostrils flare as he breathes. Wordlessly, she leans forward, tucking her head beneath Arum’s and kissing lightly at the base of his jaw, her hand coming up to lay against his chest. She uses her teeth to nip at Arum’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his rumbling throat through her palm.

Arum’s arms go around her waist, suddenly knocking her down on her back. She lets out a yelp of surprise, looking up at Arum as he hovers above her, his violet eyes staring deep into hers. His nostrils flare at her once more, then he begins pulling at the shoulders of her dress, exposing her skin to the cool night air. Hurriedly, she wiggles her shoulders back and forth, trying to squirm out of the top of her dress. Arum is careful not to scratch her with his claws—he knows she isn’t into that.

Arum pulls the square neckline of her dress below her breasts and Rilla lets out a little gasp, her hands coming to rest by her head. One of her knuckles taps against the recorder, reminding her of its existence. “Subject,” she breathes, “took me up on that offer of a break after all.” She pauses, watching as Arum’s long purply tongue slide from between his teeth, tracing a heavy line across her breast, then circling around it, spiraling until it zeroes in on one hard nipple. She moans. “Subject… possesses a fairly dexterous tongue.” She lets her eyes close. “Full extent of dexterity… unconfirmed. Further tests… required.” 

Arum rumbles a confirmation, his tongue encircling her nipple, his breath against her chest. “Yeah,” Rilla moans, one of her hands coming to rest on the back of Arum’s neck, pulling him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling their bodies flush. She feels the hardness of Arum’s cocks between her legs and presses up against them. “Subject appears to have been… thinking about this for a long time.” She laughs when Arum growls at her again, then lets out a sharp gasp as his tongue squeezes around her nipple. Dexterous indeed. “Don’t forget the other one,” Rilla pants, starting to grind her hips against Arum’s.

Arum’s tongue snaps back into his mouth so quickly that it’s comical. “I didn’t,” he growls, cutting off her laughter by grinding back down, one of his hands coming up to tangle in her hair as his tongue begins to explore her other breast. While Arum gives it the same attention as the other, Rilla doesn’t leave the other unattended, kneading it and pinching her nipple.

“Yeah, Arum, like that,” she says, using her heels to pull him harder against her. He lets out a grunt, his lower hands beginning to pull up her skirt, the pads of his fingers pressing into the insides of her thighs. One hand on the back of Arum’s head, one hand coming between her legs, Rilla rubs her clit as Arum continues to tongue her breasts before she pushes a finger inside herself, curling it slowly and moaning, her mouth falling open. Arum had tried to finger her before. It had not gone well. “Subject better not stop,” Rilla says, managing a smirk.

Arum pulls his tongue back into his mouth. “Of course the _subject_ isn’t going to stop,” he says haughtily, although his voice is rough around the edges. He bunches Rilla’s skirt up the rest of the way around her hips as he moves the rest of the way down her body, settling between her legs, mindful of his claws and teeth as his tongue joins her finger, sliding between her labia and pressing against her clit. “Oh, fuck,” Rilla pants, her breath hitching. A second finger joins the first.

“Subject’s tongue confirmed to be— _mmh_ —extremely dexterous.” The tip of Arum’s tongue traces around her fingers. “ _Fuck_. Subject is… really fucking good at this!”

Arum can’t suppress his laughter, his tongue twitching against Rilla’s cunt, sending waves of pleasure through her body. “Yes!” She cries. Arum’s arms wrap around her thighs, lifting her hips slightly off the ground, holding her legs apart so he can push his tongue inside her, alongside her fingers. Rilla draws in a deep, shaky breath before relaxing. “Holy _shit_ Arum, that feels _incredible_.” Once again, Arum’s pleased acknowledgement has Rilla’s toes curling and her spine coming up off the grass. She pushes her fingers in deep, pumping them in and out until she’s right on the edge.

“Arum, I’m gonna come,” Rilla warns, sliding her fingers back out and using them to rub her clit in fast circles, leaving Arum’s tongue to work its magic on its own. He moves it in waves and spirals as Rilla’s whole body tenses, then relaxes, then tenses again as she comes, digging her nails into the back of Arum’s head, rubbing herself through it. “ _Fuck_ yes! Oh, Saints, Arum, _yes_!” She cries.

Once Rilla has relaxed, Arum’s tongue retreats, leaving her panting and satiated. “Subject has successfully satisfied observer,” she says, taking her recorder in hand. “Observations—”

“Don’t turn that off,” Arum snaps, climbing back on top of Rilla. “I’m not done yet.”

Rilla can’t keep herself from grinning at the fact that Arum actually wants to be recorded. “Of course,” she says, setting the recorder back in the grass. “Apparently, subject isn’t done yet,” she half-mocks. Arum growls playfully at her as she runs her hands down his body and rucks up his tunic, just far enough so that she can reach his cocks. Taking one in each hand, Rilla strokes him slowly, watching as Arum shivers in pleasure, shutting his eyes and swinging his tail back and forth. “Come here,” she whispers, craning her neck to press her lips against the side of Arum’s snout when he brings it close enough, tilting his head to allow her access. She kisses his face and squeezes his cocks until he comes in the grass, burying his nose in Rilla’s hair, groaning through clenched teeth. “Good,” Rilla coos.

Panting, Arum lowers himself so that he is laying half on top of Rilla, half in the grass. “It appears as though the subject did need a break,” Rilla says, picking up the recorder one final time. “This file is probably taking up half my space. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” Arum grins, self satisfied.

Rilla huffs a laugh. “Conclusion: Subject Arum is very talented with his tongue. Maybe almost as talented as Subject Damien.”

Arum picks his head up and scowls at her, tail lashing.

“Maybe,” Rilla reiterates, scratching the top of Arum’s head when he lays it back down. “Final observation: I love you.” Rilla has to bend awkwardly to kiss the tip of Arum’s nose, but she does it anyway, then holds the recorder up to Arum.

“I love you too, Amaryllis,” Arum says, and for once, there isn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i wrote this while listening to lil nas x

**Author's Note:**

> anyone who says "not a scalie but not a coward" IS a coward for not admitting how hot & sexy lord arum is to them. i don't make the rules


End file.
